


158 - Tyrants

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Reader-Insert, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 09:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “something based off tyrants? Like the reader is this crazy social butterfly/ life of the party everyone loves her and she’s out having a good time all the time and Vans just so infatuated with her. In awe of how alive she is, you know?”





	158 - Tyrants

When you saw Van for the first time, he was upside down and flashing in and out of your field of sight. Well, technically, you were upside down. There was a school down the road from the bar, and your friends had jumped the fence and climbed into the yard. On one of the twirling tea cups, you hung backwards over the edge and watched the world spin faster and faster. Alternating between screaming and laughing, you watched in short bursts as Van and Bondy jumped the fence too. Bondy knew your friend Alyssa. They stood near the teacup, waiting for the carnage. 

Luckily, it never came. Instead, the teacup slowed and you could climb down. Taking a few shaky steps, you tripped over your own feet and fell into Van's arms. He steadied you, and his hands slipped down to your hips. You grinned at him, and he couldn't help but do it back. 

"Hi," you whispered, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

"Hey," he replied. 

"You saved me,"

"Don't think you would have died, love," he said with a shrug. 

"Maybe not, but I might have been horribly disfigured, you know? Nobody would ever love me,"

"Sure your personality would more than make up for your tragic face."

You laughed, liking that he played along with the game. Van and Bondy walked you all back to the bar and bought a round of drinks. You'd already consumed a lot of alcohol, and the round just fixed what the fresh air broke of your drunken state. Van quickly caught up. He was able to down beer faster than you, and when he carefully carried over shots of unidentifiable liquid, you fell just a little in love. You had to show him that and dragging him outside with a couple of fingers hooked through a belt loop, he followed happily. 

Leaning against a streetlight, you kissed Van's neck as his hands slowly moved down your sides and settled on your hips. When you started to softly bite, he took it as permission, and his hands slipped up under your jacket. "I think... you should... come home with me," he said between kisses and heavy breaths. 

"Do you?" you giggled. He nodded into you. But, in the darkness of the night you were free. Mornings always brought an unholy light. You didn't want to exist in it, let alone exist with Van in it. Later, when he'd gone to the bathroom, you snuck from the bar and walked home alone, stopping to pat stray cats. 

…

Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, and the smoke finally left your lips in perfect circles. You'd done it. You had finally fucking done it. "Like motherfucking Gandalf!" you yelled, as you watched the smoke rings slowly get bigger and dissipate into the air. Monumentally high, Van's arrival in the room was unnoticed. It wasn't until he sat on the couch next to you that your body turned and you registered him.

"Hi," he said.

"Hellllooooo," you replied, holding the pipe to him. He took it from you and inhaled, then passed it to his left with a thank you. Van turned back to you and you both rested your heads on the couch. Eyes glassy, lips twisted in Cheshire cat grins, hands slowly crawling closer together.

"Where did you go? The other night?"

"Home," you replied in a whisper.

"Why?"

You shrugged. He wanted to know if he'd done something wrong, but you were too high to stroke his ego and he was too high to ask the question. If he had, maybe you would have tried to explain how dawn breaking changes feelings. Maybe you wouldn't.

Alyssa's party continued and whoever was responsible for the dope was your hero. It was quality and the high was sustained even with time. Van stayed by your side on the couch, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your arm, his head on your shoulder. He wanted contact, and because he smelt good and was warm, you let him touch. Standing with the intent of finding food, Van stood to follow.

"Y/N! Where are you going?!" your friend asked.

"Y/N," another person echoed. You weren't sure if you knew them, but they obviously knew you.

"Don't go!" Alyssa said from where she was laying under the coffee table.

"I'm not going," you informed them. "I'm going to… bake a cake,"

"A cake?" Alyssa asked.

"Yeah. Van will help," you replied, turning to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his body to yours. "Won't you?" He nodded. Before he could lean in for a kiss, you let go and ran from the room.

In the kitchen, you shooed everyone out. Van stood in the doorway. He watched you find ingredients in the fridge and pantry. "You were so high a second ago…"

"Yeah," you replied, pulling a mixing bowl out. "But like, I'm also super hungry and cake is good, Van."

He nodded and moved to sit on the bench. You worked quietly, only talking when someone came in the room to get drinks from the fridge. They'd yell your name and you'd yell back and throw yourself at them in a hug. When they were gone, you'd go back to mixing. When the batter was done you put some on a spoon and held to Van. He let you feed it to him. He nodded in approval and you nodded back. The cake was in the oven and you jumped to sit on the bench with him.

"People really like you," he said.

"I really like people,"

"Everyone knows you and stuff. Spend a lot of time tellin' stories about you," he spoke to the ceiling, his head leaning back on the kitchen cupboards. You looked at him, at how his Adam's apple stuck out.

"Good stories?"

"Yeah. Wild. You're mayhem,"

"That's what people said you were like, until you settled down," you joked. His head snapped to face you.

"What!? I've not settled down. I'm in a band!"

You laughed at his defensiveness. "I know, and you're very focused on that, aren't you?" You were teasing, but he was easily ruffled. Van narrowed his eyes, a smirk on his lips.

"And what are you focused on?"

"This cake. The party. This one bit of your hair that curls around and won't sit flat," you answered, twirling the curl around your finger. His smirk broke out into a wide grin and he pulled you along the bench towards him. Your faces were close, close enough to touch. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and you emphasised it by rubbing yours against his on purpose. "Eskimo kiss," you whispered.

"Fuck," he involuntarily muttered, and pulled you into a kiss. It was hard to lose yourself in it and stay balanced on the kitchen bench, so you slipped off and pulled Van with you. He pushed you up to the kitchen wall, pinning you between it and him. Kissing until someone came through the door, Van's lips were cherry red when you sprung apart. When you were alone again Van looked at you. "How long does it have to be in there for?"

You knelt in front of the oven, looking in. "Maybe fifty minutes more,"

"Time to go out for a smoke then," he said and held a hand out to you. You stood, took it and let him lead you back through the house. People greeted you both as you walked.

Outside in the darkness, you felt at home. Alyssa had a fire pit in her backyard and people were sitting around it. Van wanted you all to himself though. Letting you go near another person would mean you'd turn chaotic and larger than life with the attention. On the grass with backs against the fence, you shared a cigarette with Van. As you watched the fire crackle from across the yard, he rested his head on your shoulder and ran fingers up and down your arm again.

"Want to know something else I heard about you?" he asked.

"Heard a lot about me, Van. Do I naturally come up in conversation this much or did you go asking?"

"I heard," he started his sentence, ignoring your question, "that you're never quiet, or still. Always doing something,"

"And?" you asked, inhaling and trying to blow a smoke circle.

"You're being quiet and still,"

"Maybe I'm just super fucking high," you said.

"Maybe."

Van was only a second away from ruining it but he let the conversation go, and so you stayed.

Later, he watched from the couch as you walked through the rooms of the house handing out pieces of perfectly baked cake. Each person that wanted a piece paid with a kiss, which they had to leave on your arms, legs, face, or neck in lipstick. Half the party were red lipped and well fed by the time they were calling cabs and piling into friends' cars. Then, after too much dope and too much cake, you passed out on the couch across from where Van, Alyssa, and Bondy sat. Your head was in the lap of a girl wearing a onesie, and when you woke in the morning, Alyssa told you the girl and Van carried you to the spare bedroom.

"I watched him tuck you in and kiss your head, Y/N. Think he’s falling in love," Alyssa said.

You didn't reply as you helped clean the kitchen that you single-handedly destroyed the night before.

…

The third time you saw Van you were climbing a tree. You weren't doing it to be funny; there was a cat stuck.

"I'm not tall enough to reach her!" you yelled back down.

You watched as Van scaled the tree, using the same path you had. When he was standing on the branch next to you, his head tilted in confusion.

"You're drunk!" he said in one of those weird yell-whispers.

"Nooooooooo. I've only had a couple!"

"You're drunk and up a tree!"

"It's fine, I'm lucky. Can you reach her?" you asked him, pointing to the cat. Van quickly grabbed your hand and planted it firmly on the branch you were previously holding. He looked around for the cat, easily reaching out for her and holding her to his chest. The cat was growling and had gone still. It was menacing but better than her scratching him. "Alright. I'm gonna take it down, then I'll come up for you, yeah?"

"Her, not it. Her name is Donut,"

"Okay. I'll take Donut down and come back for you,"

"I can climb a tree, Van," you said with a smirk. He looked unamused. He said nothing as he slowly worked out how to get down with one arm. On the ground you watched Donut run under the house. The sun was only beginning to set. It was daylight. Maybe you could stay in the tree until it was night. When you didn't land on the ground, people started to yell your name. You could hear Van hush them.

"Y/N?" he asked. "If you don't come down, I'm going to come back up,"

"Can you bring me a glass of wine?" you yelled. People laughed, and reassured you were messing around, not stuck, they went back inside to continue helping set up the party. Van appeared on the branch next to you. "No on the wine?" It was shady and cold in the tree. The sun couldn't get to where you were.

"You're ridiculous, Y/N," he grinned. You thought he was going to be angry. "Also doesn't anyone have your number?"

"You're asking people for my number now?"

"Every time I've gone to ask you, you've either disappeared or passed out,"

"We've hung out twice," you said laughing.

"Yeah. You disappeared the first, and passed out the second,"

"Well. I live an interesting life."

He shook his head, still smiling. You walked across the branch, your hips shadowed by Van's hand. You could see he was scared you'd fall but felt more good than bad. What you were unsure of though, was what exactly the good was. Alyssa's voice in your head reminded you of a four letter word you were pretending didn't exist. Not yet, at least. You pressed yourself against him and wrapped both arms around his neck. He wobbled on the branch and grabbed the overhanging branch, keeping both of you upright and safe. You kissed him and he kissed back.

"Let's, ah, head for the ground now, Y/N," he said when you broke apart.

"You don't want to make out with me?"

"I do. Very much. It's insane. I just… We're up a tree. Come on," he said, grinning and slowly helping you down.

Inside, you swapped numbers and drank wine. Kissing and touching. Sneaking away to a bedroom.

…

When Van arrived at the restaurant, you had already left the table. Your bag and jacket were there as evidence you were too, but you'd wandered off. He found you in the hallway between the main floor and the bathrooms. There was a fish tank and you were waiting to see if the pufferfish would… puff.

"Y/N?" he asked the end of the hall. His hands were in his pockets and he'd dressed up. Skinny jeans still, but a button up and suit jacket. You stood straight and grinned at him.

"Look at them," you said to him. He smiled and walked to you. He looked but was clearly less impressed than you. "You don't care about the fish?"

"I care if you care," he said. You looked at him and with your attention away from the tank, he had permission to look away too. You hugged and it lasted longer than it needed, but not as long as either of you really wanted.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hey, darlin'," he whispered back.

Back at the table the first proper date you'd ever been on started. Van didn't know that. Maybe nobody did. All the 'dates' you'd been on were at bars or clubs, or just invitations home. The way you lived your life didn't allow for much other than that. Van was different though. He wasn't trying to make you calm down or be less… you. He wasn't exploiting you for your ability to have a good fucking time in life either.

"Can you stop looking at me like that?" you said as you ate gnocchi.

"It's just… never seen you sober,"

"Mmmm. A rare thing," you agreed. "I'm horrible, right? Boring. Average. Vanilla."

Van laughed, shaking his head, chewing his chicken. "No. You're not. At all. You're…" he paused, pretending he hadn't been thinking about you since the moment he saw you spinning upside down on the school yard teacups. "I don't know how to describe you. You just really seem to love life,"

"I do. What's not to love?"

"Yeah. Exactly. You're happy. It's beautiful. You're beautiful,"

"Stop. Don't get all mushy on me," you said, leaning across the table to steal some of the vegetables on his plate. He watched you with a grin, pushing the plate closer to make it easier. "Thanks,"

"Honestly, I'm constantly in awe of you. You're just… trouble, but good trouble, you know? Not hurtin' anyone or fuckin' things up for people. Just… you're quality,"

"We could, just, like, stop talking about me and think about dessert," you replied. Van chuckled, looked at you as you blushed, and nodded.

"Yep. Alright. Just so you know I like you,"

"I know. Stop,"

"And feel free to say you like me too,"

"Maybe I will if dessert,"

"If dessert," Van repeated with a laugh. He called the waiter over and watched you pick a chocolate fondant. He ordered apple pie, and the dessert special too. The waiter said nothing and when he left you raised an eyebrow at Van. "Just increasing my chances of you liking me."

Outside the restaurant, Van held you in a hug while he smoked. It was late, and he told you that everyone was heading into the city to get a little bit messy. "Is that what you want to do?" you asked, cheek over his heart, eyes closed.

"Assumed you would,"

"We could. Or, we could go home and just have a cup of tea and watch something on T.V.?"

Van let you go and looked at you carefully, like you'd just suggested a murder spree. He put the back of his hand gently to your forehead. "You feeling alright?" You pushed his hand away and pouted. "I'm sorry. Come back," Van laughed, putting his smoke out and pulling you closer. "Whatever you want to do, I'm down. Tea and Fifa sounds perfect,"

"I didn't say Fifa?"

Van took your hand in his and started to walk down the road. You followed along, happy to have your path guided by Van and illuminated by the streetlights. "Yep. Tea. And. Fifa," Van replied.


End file.
